“When trauma strikes, it leaves many in its wake. Sharlene Prinsen tells her family’s heart-wrenching story with raw courage and stunning honesty, in a way that will resonate with everyone, especially those touched by PTSD and addiction. She shows how messy and imperfect life can become for a PTSD family, and offers useful tips for those who are also struggling to adjust to a ‘new normal.’ This remarkable book is filled with ongoing healing, fierce hope, wisdom, and grace.”
–Cynthia Orange, author of Shock Waves: A Practical Guide to Living with a Loved One’s PTSD
“Blind Devotion is a testimony to faith and commitment. At some point, the reader becomes aware that this story isn’t just about living with someone who suffers with PTSD and addiction, but instead portrays the author’s emerging PTSD and addiction.”
–Tracy Stecker, PhD, psychologist at the Dartmouth Psychiatric Research Center and author of 5 Survivors: Personal Stories of Healing from PTSD and Traumatic Events
Psych Central- This will appeal to every reader, regardless of their experiences with PTSD.
“This is a story of survival, with protagonists who are determined to conquer their personal demons and triumph, no matter what. Prinsen’s writing constantly draws you deeper into the book, and her narration of the story is so engaging and thought-provoking that this will appeal to every reader, regardless of their experiences with PTSD. An inspirational book by an exciting new author: both Sharlene and Sean have much to be proud of.”
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Blind Devotion
Survival on the Front Lines of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and AddictionBy Sharlene Prinsen
Hazelden
Copyright © 2012 Sharlene Prinsen
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9781616494094
Tell the officers I’m coming out with the kids! Tell them it’s us coming out!Don’t let them shoot at my kids!”. . . I threw the phone down, looped the bag over my shoulder, and went to wake up my son. Michael,” I whispered as I shook his shoulders. Wake up, Honey. We have to go, right now. You need to listen to Mommy and do exactly what I say, OK?” In an instant, my four-year-old was on his feet, reminding me so much of his father who would startle from his sleep at the slightest sound, feet on the floor and at attention, ready to receive his orders. My son’s eyes were wide with fear and confusion. He was wearing nothing but his underwear, but I didn’t have time to get him dressed. He clung to my leg as I went into the nursery to grab my infant daughter. My sobs caught in my throat as I wrapped her in a blanket and ran for the door with Michael glued to my side. Michael,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm for my son’s sake. When I open this door, I need you to run with me as fast as you can to the car. And when you get in, I need you to get down on the floor in the back seat.” Now he was terrified, his tears welling up. Mommy. . .” he started, but I cut him off. Just do it, Michael, please!” My little girl, still lost in slumber when I picked her up, was now stirring in my arms, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and ran with my children to the car parked outside. As Michael climbed in, I could hear my husband just a few yards away, still raging at the officers who were concealed in the darkness. My heart raced as I threw my baby girl into the car with such haste
that she rolled across the seat and bumped her head on the passenger door. The sound of her startled cries and Michael’s whimpers from the back seat were too much for me. As I tore down the long driveway, my head swirled with the surreal sounds around methe baby’s screams, Michael’s sobs, the drone of the search helicopter overhead, the ranting of my husband. It all blurred together into a chilling soundtrack. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. I knew from the
direction of my husband’s voice just a few minutes ago that I was driving right between him and the officers with whom he was locked in a deadly standoff. My mind grappled to make sense of it. This is like a movie. . . Is this really happening to me? I gripped the steering wheel and braced myself, convinced that the next sound to join the eerie symphony would be a gunshot echoing through the night. And then my husband would be dead. Or I would be. Or one of the children.
Continues…
Excerpted from Blind Devotion by Sharlene Prinsen Copyright © 2012 by Sharlene Prinsen. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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